Starting at Zero
by plumtuckered
Summary: COMPLETE - Trip and T'Pol go back to 1945 to find Archer and find themselves fighting for Earth once again. (TT'P)
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: Starting at Zero  
  
AUTHOR: plumtuckered  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
GENRE: Drama/Adventure  
  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story takes place just after "Zero Hour". I'm not sure I ironed out all the wrinkles in the time travel explanation, but hopefully it'll fly.  
  
And just to forewarn everyone, there are definite T/T'P moments in this one as well spoilers for "Damage" and other season three episodes.

Thanks in advance to those of you who read this. Any comments, positive or otherwise, are most welcomed and appreciated!  
  
  
  
STARTING AT ZERO  
  
By plumtuckered  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
  
  
Ensign Travis Mayweather maneuvered the little shuttle pod out of the line of fire. His eyes followed the path of the passing aircraft as they sped by them.  
  
"What the hell is happening here?" demanded Commander Trip Tucker from his seat just behind Travis.  
  
"I don't know, sir, but I'm pretty sure those fighters were from World War II," replied Enterprise's helmsman.  
  
"World War II?" repeated Trip. "How is that possible?"  
  
Travis shrugged. "They're coming around for another run, Commander. What should I do?"  
  
Silence was his only response.  
  
"Commander?" prompted Travis again. He turned his head enough to see that the chair behind him was empty. The ensign looked toward the back of the 'pod then turned quickly back to the controls, swallowing the fear he felt rising in his stomach.  
  
He was alone.  
  
  
  
"Sub-commander, it's the shuttle pod," announced Ensign Hoshi Sato.  
  
"Put them through," replied T'Pol. She stepped down from the captain's chair and moved to stand beside the communications officer. "Go ahead, Commander."  
  
"I'm just clearing atmosphere, Sub-commander. We were attacked and the commander, he's-----well, he's----."  
  
Hoshi met T'Pol's concerned gaze. Travis was definitely out of sorts.  
  
"Commander Tucker's gone, ma'am."  
  
"Explain," replied T'Pol as she gripped the back of Hoshi's chair with one hand. "How can the commander just be gone?"  
  
"We were fired on by what looked like aircraft from World War II and Commander Tucker just---he just disappeared."  
  
Hoshi could hear the confusion in her friend's voice. She looked back at T'Pol who stood in silence beside her. The Vulcan's expression changed for a moment into what Hoshi could only describe as fear then it settled into a look of determination.  
  
"What's happening down there?" asked Lieutenant Malcolm Reed from across the bridge.  
  
"I don't know, Lieutenant, but I suggest we find out," replied T'Pol. She looked down at Hoshi. "Inform Ensign Mayweather to return to the ship. The lieutenant and I will meet him in the launch bay."  
  
Hoshi nodded. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
  
  
T'Pol moved aside in the turbolift as Reed joined her. The door slid shut, cutting off her view of the bridge. She took a deep, cleansing breath, but it did nothing to relieve the tight fear she felt in her stomach. She'd lost Captain Archer and that loss had been difficult, but to lose the commander was something unthinkable. The thought stirred emotions within her that she knew were best left unexamined at the moment.  
  
"Sub-commander?"  
  
The Vulcan blinked then looked at Reed.  
  
"Are you all right?" asked Reed.  
  
"I'm fine, Lieutenant," T'Pol replied, noting the slight tremor in her voice.  
  
"We'll find Trip. Don't worry."  
  
T'Pol held the armory officer's eyes, willing herself to believe in his words. The door slid open before she could respond to him.  
  
"What the---?" gasped Reed.  
  
Before them was a small clearing nestled in a large forest. Sunlight streamed through the trees as morning seemed to be dawning.  
  
"I'm sorry I had to do this, Sub-commander, Lieutenant, but I had no other choice."  
  
T'Pol turned her head to see Crewman Daniels standing behind her. "What exactly is going on here, Crewman, and where is Commander Tucker?" she demanded evenly.  
  
"He's here, ma'am. He's just not here," replied Daniels. He smiled slightly. "The commander was never one known for patience. He's gone ahead."  
  
"Ahead?" asked Reed in confusion. "I think you'd better start explaining yourself, Crewman, and now."  
  
Daniels exhaled a long breath. "First of all, Captain Archer is not dead."  
  
T'Pol exchanged a glance with Reed then returned a steely gaze to Daniels. "The captain was killed when the Xindi weapon exploded. Are you stating that you retrieved him before it was destroyed?"  
  
Daniels nodded. "Yes."  
  
"Then where is he?" asked the lieutenant.  
  
"He's currently in a German military hospital, or rather a field hospital," replied Daniels. He stepped closer. "The Germans moved quicker than I was anticipating and they captured him before I had the chance to join him and explain what was going on." He hesitated briefly. "He's going to need help if Earth is to be saved."  
  
"Earth has already been saved, Crewman," said T'Pol tightly.  
  
"Not really, Sub-commander. There was a contingency plan. A life pod was placed in a---a sort of temporal air pocket when the spheres were being built. In this 'pod was a single life form whose sole purpose was to disrupt Earth's future if the Guardians failed in creating the Expanse. When the spheres were destroyed and the Expanse collapsed, this being awoke. He's now here in this time, 1945 Germany."  
  
"So Enterprise is in 1945?" asked Reed incredulously. "Come on, Daniels. This is all a bit far-fetched, don't you think?"  
  
"Enterprise is in 2154, Lieutenant. We're in 1945."  
  
"Our shuttle pod was just attacked by World War II fighters, Crewman" stated T'Pol.  
  
Daniels sighed somewhat impatiently. "This being has the ability to shift time at his will. He's moved forward, changing the timeline, slowing the development of certain technological advancements. The San Francisco Ensign Mayweather and Commander Tucker saw looked the same as they remember it because this being allowed it to develop as such. But he halted any and all advancements in the field of aeronautics----."  
  
"---which explains the presence of the fighters over 200 years in the future," finished Reed. "But Yosemite station was there in orbit around Earth. We watched the Xindi Reptilians destroy it."  
  
"Before Enterprise destroyed the Expanse."  
  
"So this---being was still in stasis at that point?"  
  
"Yes, Sub-commander."  
  
"And you pulled the captain from the weapon in order to stop him?"  
  
Daniels hesitated. "Yes," he replied finally.  
  
"Tell me, Crewman. If this being disrupted the development of the future, how do you explain Enterprise even being present in 2154?" asked T'Pol.  
  
"The two timelines are currently overlapping," explained Daniels. "I don't have time to explain all the temporal mechanics, Sub-commander. I need you to join Commander Tucker. And Lieutenant, I need you to return to Enterprise to construct a weapon that will kill this being. I'll brief you on how to alter and enhance one of your phase pistols to disrupt his temporal field."  
  
Reed shook his head. "I'm not leaving Trip and the sub-commander here alone."  
  
"I don't think you understand the situation," said Daniels sharply. "You only have thirteen hours to stop this alien. The timelines will cease to overlap at that time. If you don't succeed in destroying this alien in those thirteen hours, there will be no Enterprise, no Starfleet, and the sphere-builders will ultimately succeed in completing the Expanse."  
  
"Bloody hell," cursed Reed. "You expect us to believe---."  
  
"Lieutenant," said T'Pol grabbing his arm gently to still him. She looked at Daniels. "Commander Tucker believed you?" she asked.  
  
"Not entirely," replied the crewman with a slight smile. "But he knows what he saw in 2154 wasn't right and he wants to find the captain."  
  
"As do I," replied T'Pol. She turned to look pointedly at Reed. "You will return to Enterprise, Lieutenant. Do as Crewman Daniels asks, but only to the point you feel it's logical." She glanced at Daniels. "How will you get this weapon to us?"  
  
"Once it's done, I'll get it to you. Don't concern yourself with that right now. You and Commander Tucker must get to the captain, tell him what's happening, then find the alien."  
  
T'Pol nodded, then looked at Reed again. "Do as he asks," she continued. "If we do not return to the ship in thirteen hours---." She stopped, suddenly realizing if Daniels was right and they failed, there would be no ship in thirteen hours. By the look on Reed's face, he understood that as well.  
  
"Good luck, Sub-commander. And tell Trip to keep his head down," said the lieutenant with a nod.  
  
T'Pol turned to Daniels. "Now take me to Commander Tucker," she ordered.  
  
  
  
Enterprise's chief engineer ducked his head as a troop of German soldiers marched passed him. He peeked up again and glanced across the dusty road to the little medical tent. He knew somewhere within that tent, he would find the captain. He craned his neck, looking down the road. There were no other tents in sight so he felt confident the one he was staring at was the one on which Daniels had briefed him.  
  
"Commander."  
  
Trip started slightly then turned to see T'Pol crawling toward him. "Nice of you to join me. Where's Daniels?" he asked.  
  
"He's taken Lieutenant Reed back to Enterprise to alter one of our weapons," replied T'Pol. "You are unharmed?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine."  
  
"Is the captain in there?"  
  
Trip nodded. "At least I think he is. Now all we have to do is get us both medics' uniforms."  
  
"You have a plan?"  
  
"Well, I haven't quite ironed out all the specifics," replied Trip sheepishly. "But I figured whatever we do, we need to blend in with the crowd."  
  
"Do you speak German?" asked T'Pol as she settled on her knees.  
  
"I can count to ten. Does that help?"  
  
T'Pol arched a slender brow at him. "You are lucky I have my UT, Commander."  
  
Trip sighed in relief. "I could kiss you, T'Pol."  
  
"That would be a highly illogical action given our current circumstances," admonished T'Pol evenly. She looked across the road at the tent. "However, if you still feel it necessary, we can discuss it further after we've retrieved the captain." She glanced at Trip briefly then moved back into the forest.  
  
Trip followed her in surprised silence.  
  
  
  
Jonathan Archer sat up with a jolt.  
  
"Stay still."  
  
The captain squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again. He looked up to see a nurse standing over him. She was looking back at him with mild concern. Slowly, Jon lowered himself back down onto his cot.  
  
"I am sorry for the pain, but our supplies are very low right now," continued the young woman. "Are you hurting?"  
  
Jon shook his head. He reached a shaking hand up to touch the side of his face.  
  
"You were burned," said the nurse not unkindly. "Not quite as severely as we first thought, but you will still have some ugly scarring. You also sustained a slight concussion."  
  
Jon dropped his hand and wiped it on his pants leg. "Where am I?" he asked. He looked around at his surroundings, noting the oil-burning lanterns and the old wood cots lining the walls of the tent.  
  
"You are in a hospital just outside Berlin."  
  
"Berlin?" asked Jon in shock, then it dawned on him that the woman had a thick accent.  
  
The nurse tilted her head. "In Germany," she replied. "A patrol found you in a nearby field this morning."  
  
Jon closed his eyes. "Last thing I remember was being caught in the explosion."  
  
"There did not appear to be any sign of shelling where you were found. Did you wander away from your regiment?"  
  
"My regiment?"  
  
"Never mind. You need to rest. The commander will be back to question you later. You have got a lot of people wondering why an American is here alone and in a very strange uniform."  
  
Jon looked up.  
  
The nurse smiled. "Your accent," she said. "You mumbled something about--- Enterprise and a weapon while you were unconscious."  
  
"Oh," replied Jon. He felt his arm pocket for his UT, but it was not there. "You speak English?"  
  
"Yes, now you need to rest," the nurse repeated.  
  
Jon looked up at the ceiling of the tent. "You said shelling before. What did you mean?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Shelling," repeated the captain. "What shelling? Earth isn't at war and we destroyed the weapon."  
  
"I should get the doctor. Your head injury may be more serious than we thought."  
  
Jon reached out and grabbed the nurse's wrist. "No, please. What is this place? Why am I here?"  
  
"As I said before, you are near Berlin. As to why, I don't know."  
  
"What about the shelling?"  
  
"Stalin's Red Army is on the move. They have been----."  
  
"Red Army?" repeated the captain incredulously. He sat up, his eyes darting over his surroundings. "What year is this?"  
  
The nurse looked at him in obvious confusion. "1945, of course."  
  
Jon froze. "Daniels," he whispered.  
  
  
  
Continued


	2. Chapter Two

  
  
Chapter Two  
  
  
  
Phlox dimmed the lights in sickbay so his remaining two patients could sleep. Both crewmen were well on their way to a complete recovery and Phlox felt a sense of relief at that knowledge. He still had a few patients he'd released to quarters, but for the most part, Enterprise's brave crew had recovered physically from their horrific experiences.  
  
He moved quietly into his quarters just off the main 'bay and sat down. "Computer, begin recording," he instructed. He heard the responding bleep then leaned back in his chair. "Dear Dr. Lucas," he began. He paused, wondering if Dr. Lucas even existed in the current time line.  
  
Phlox shrugged. "Dear Dr. Lucas," he continued. "As you have no doubt heard, the faithful crew of Enterprise succeeded in their mission to destroy the Xindi weapon. To say I'm proud to know these people is probably the greatest understatement I could ever utter. In my eyes, they are quite simply heroes, every one of them."  
  
"I suppose history will consider me a hero as well, although I don't feel like one. Lives were lost and I know I will carry each loss with me to my grave. I also compromised my ethics on more than one occasion. Oh, I know the human saying 'the ends justify the means', but it doesn't make living with those means any easier."  
  
Phlox sat forward. "Current circumstances have not allowed my friends to feel the full impact of those means yet, and I fear for them when they do. I will be here for them, though, Doctor. I promise you that. I am a member of this crew, this family, so to speak. I will not abandon them."  
  
The Denobulan sighed. "Computer, end recording." He looked at the floor at his feet, unable to continue. He'd been relieved when he'd heard that Captain Archer had survived the weapon's destruction, but that relief had been quickly replaced by fear when he'd learned that the captain, as well as T'Pol and the commander, had been swept away by the enigmatic Crewman Daniels. He did not fear that his friends would fail in their new mission. On the contrary, he was certain that they would succeed just as they had in the Expanse. His fear was that all three would not be returning.  
  
Phlox stood as he heard the sickbay doors open. As he left his quarters to see to his visitor, he wondered if perhaps those he held most dear had finally tempted fate once too often.  
  
  
  
T'Pol peered around the tree at the little house. "It appears to be abandoned," she said softly.  
  
"Looks like it's taken some damage," replied Trip. He moved up close behind her. "There's scorching on the north wall." He pointed. "And the windows are broken, see there?"  
  
The commander's breath blew warm against T'Pol's ear as he spoke. Ignoring the responding shiver, she followed his pointing finger to see the shattered glass still hanging in the window frames.  
  
"I'm not sure we're going to find any clothes in there," Trip continued.  
  
"We're running out of time," replied T'Pol. "And there appear to be no other dwellings in the vicinity."  
  
"Well, let's have a look then."  
  
T'Pol put her arm out to stop Trip, her ears picking up a slight rustling in the forest. "Someone's coming," she breathed. She took his arm and pulled him down quickly to crouch beside her. Almost afraid to breathe, T'Pol listened to the distant voices. From the bits and pieces of the conversation she could hear, she knew they'd been seen.  
  
"What're they saying?" whispered Trip, his face mere centimeters from her own.  
  
"They know we're in the area," T'Pol replied. She tipped her head, listening intently. "They've seen your uniform before."  
  
"The cap'n."  
  
T'Pol nodded then motioned him to follow her. She stayed low and out of the Germans' line of sight as she lead the commander through the underbrush. She stopped when she heard the snapping of a twig nearby and felt Trip's hand on her arm. He'd heard it, too.  
  
The soldiers were close, so close that T'Pol could smell their stale sweat and hear their labored breathing. She peered through the thick foliage toward the little house. She could see two soldiers walking around it then watched as they shrugged at an unseen companion.  
  
Trip's hand tightened on her arm. She turned to see the muzzle of a rifle pressed to the base of his skull.  
  
"Move slowly," directed the soldier.  
  
"Commander," began T'Pol.  
  
"You---shut up!" ordered the German. "Now you---I told you to move."  
  
"Okay, okay," replied Trip slowly. "Do you speak English?" He started to turn his head.  
  
The soldier twisted his rifle around in his hands and brought the butt of it down hard across the side of Trip's face. As the engineer fell forward, T'Pol moved. She swept her leg out and caught the German off guard, toppling him. T'Pol quickly hauled Trip to his feet and forcefully pulled him through the woods until he was able to find his bearings. She could hear shouting behind her as the soldier called to his comrades for assistance.  
  
  
  
"What do you mean, it won't work?" demanded Malcolm angrily.  
  
Daniels shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant," he replied. "Your phase pistols just don't have enough power to kill him."  
  
"So just what do you suggest we do now?"  
  
"I don't know, sir."  
  
Malcolm snorted derisively. "You don't know? My captain, first officer, and chief engineer are all down there counting on us to get them this weapon! You bloody well better come up with something, Crewman. I'm not about to let them die and I'm sure as hell not going to let this being succeed in his mission."  
  
Daniels stared down at the phase pistol then picked it up and looked at the exposed circuitry.  
  
"Well?" prompted Malcolm.  
  
"The MACOs," began Daniels. "They use pulse rifles, don't they?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Daniels smiled. "I've got an idea, Lieutenant."  
  
  
  
Jon opened his eyes. He hadn't been dreaming. He was still lying on an old rickety cot under the cover of a hospital tent surrounded by injured soldiers.  
  
"How are you feeling?" asked the same nurse from that morning.  
  
Jon simply nodded then took the glass of water she offered him. He sipped it then frowned.  
  
"Our water not up to your American standards?"  
  
The captain sipped again. "No, it's fine, thank you," he replied. "What is your name?"  
  
"Leyna."  
  
Jon gave her back the glass then sat up. "Well, Leyna, my name is Jonathan Archer and I need to get out of here. I don't belong here."  
  
Leyna smiled sadly. "None of us belong here, Mr. Archer," she replied.  
  
"That's not what I meant."  
  
"I know what you meant. But you, Mr. Archer, are a prisoner of war now. You are not going anywhere."  
  
Jon met Leyna's eyes. She was young like Hoshi, but her eyes were so much older. She'd seen the horrors of war first hand. He wondered briefly what she'd been like before all the death and destruction had changed her world.  
  
"Commander Wilhelm will be here soon to talk with you," continued Leyna. "I suggest you not aggravate him. His ways are different than our own."  
  
"What do you mean, different?"  
  
"You will understand when you meet him," replied Leyna. She stepped closer and looked intently at the burns on Jon's face. "There does not seem to be any signs of infection," she said. "That is a constant concern out here. As you can see, it is hard to keep things sanitary."  
  
"Thank you for taking care of me."  
  
"I am just doing my job, Mr. Archer. Do not make the mistake of believing there is more to it than that," said Leyna briskly. She turned and moved across the tent to a soldier who'd been moaning in pain.  
  
Jon swung his legs over the edge of his cot and sat forward, his elbows on his thighs. He knew something had gone wrong. Whenever Daniels had pulled him from his present in the past, the crewman always had made contact. Something had gone terribly wrong.  
  
The captain scrubbed his fingers through his hair then took a nonchalant look around. Two armed soldiers stood just outside the tent's flap eliminating that as a possible route of escape. Jon's eyes moved along the lower edge of the tent. If he could get his hands on a scalpel, he thought maybe he'd be able to cut through the thick fabric, but he'd have to get a scalpel first. The only doctor in the hospital he'd seen carried his medical instruments with him in a bag.  
  
Jon turned his head as the flap to the tent opened. He gasped audibly at the sight of the officer who stepped into the room.  
  
"Captain Archer," greeted the alien, his red eyes glowing. "I am Commander Egmont Wilhelm."  
  
Jon swallowed. "You know me?" he asked.  
  
Wilhelm chuckled. "Of course I do, Captain. You're here to stop me."  
  
"Stop you?"  
  
"You don't know? Now just how can that be?" asked Wilhelm with a light- heartedness that gave Jon chills. He stepped over to the captain's cot and looked down at him. "Perhaps those who sent you here realized the folly of their plan. You are a fragile species, after all, and so gullible." He ran a grey, knotty hand along the wall of the tent. "Take this Hitler, for example. All I had to do was foretell a random attack by the Red Army, and now he's putty in my hand. I can do anything I want."  
  
"And what exactly is that?"  
  
The alien laughed. "You really are in the dark, aren't you, Captain?"  
  
Jon remained silent, his eyes fixed on the powerful alien before him.  
  
Wilhelm dropped his hand from the tent wall and looked at Jon pointedly. "I am here to set things straight, Captain. To insure that the presence of the Expanse in the future is guaranteed." He grabbed Jon's hair and yanked his head back brutally. "And I will not fail," he added, moving in so close that Jon could smell his rancid breath. "I will not fail."  
  
  
  
Trip barreled after T'Pol, her hand still firmly gripping his wrist. A bullet hit a tree next to Trip's head and he shielded his face instinctively from the flurry of bark that sprayed over him. He still felt light-headed, but the world around him at least seemed to be level and not skewed any longer.  
  
"Are you all right?" asked T'Pol without turning.  
  
"I---I think so," replied Trip as he plowed through the low-growing foliage on the forest floor.  
  
"Over here," directed the sub-commander. She led Trip deeper into the center of the woods and soon the shooting stopped.  
  
When T'Pol fell, Trip was caught by surprise and he dove over her, landing hard on his chest. He shook his head then pushed himself up, turning to look at his fallen companion. T'Pol was gripping her ankle, her brow furrowed in pain.  
  
"Hey," said Trip as he crawled over to her. He gingerly felt her ankle. "I think it's broken," he whispered.  
  
T'Pol gasped. "I believe your assessment is correct," she replied. "I can not continue."  
  
Trip looked around. In the distance, he could hear the soldiers crashing through the forest, their angry voices echoing throughout the trees. He stood then knelt to pick up T'Pol.  
  
"You must leave me," said the Vulcan.  
  
"No way."  
  
"Commander----Trip, I will only slow you down."  
  
Trip looked at the woman in his arms. "I said no way," he repeated curtly. He turned to look behind them, then proceeded forward.  
  
"They are getting closer," whispered T'Pol.  
  
"Damn it," cursed Trip. He moved quickly to a thicket then lowered T'Pol behind it. "Can you slide under here?"  
  
T'Pol nodded. "I believe this will give adequate cover," she replied. "There isn't room for you, however."  
  
Trip smiled. "I'm going to lead them away from you."  
  
"Commander----."  
  
The engineer put up a hand. "I'll circle back around, T'Pol," he explained.  
  
"I don't think we should separate."  
  
"A minute ago, you wanted me to leave you. Now you don't?"  
  
T'Pol looked away. "A minute ago you were not endangering your life unnecessarily."  
  
Trip turned his head as he heard the soldiers shouting. "I gotta go, T'Pol," he whispered hurriedly. "I'll be back for you." He began to stand, but stopped when a hand grabbed his arm. He held T'Pol's eyes for a long moment then he patted her hand gently. "I'll be back for you," he repeated softly. "Now stay put."  
  
"You told me you'd be there for me---when this was over. Do you remember?"  
  
Trip nodded. "And I will be----I promise you that. Now I gotta go."  
  
T'Pol held his arm firmly. "You have never broken your promises, Commander."  
  
The engineer removed her hand, but held it tightly in his. "And I'm not going to start now," he replied. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it quickly then stood. "I'll see you soon."  
  
And then he ran.  
  
  
  
As much as she wanted to follow Trip, T'Pol knew that logically it would be folly. She slid her body under the thicket, then held still. Her ankle throbbed, but she kept her attention focused on the man she could still see moving away from her. She watched as he looked back once, then he disappeared into the darkness of the woods.  
  
T'Pol held her breath as she heard the soldiers approaching. One shouted that he'd seen someone moving ahead, then the group ran by T'Pol's hiding place in a rush. She peered through the thicket to see five soldiers racing after Trip. The commander had no doubt left signs of his passing so that the Germans could easily follow him.  
  
After they'd moved away, T'Pol pushed herself out from under the thicket then sat up. She put her hand on her ankle and gritted her teeth. She looked around for something to use as a crutch so that when Trip returned, he wouldn't have to carry her. She found a downed limb that appeared to be the right height. Using the branch, T'Pol levered her weight against it and pushed herself to her feet. She was still unsteady, but she was at least able to walk alone.  
  
Lowering herself back down to the ground, T'Pol waited. A lack of patience was definitely a problem with which she had found herself dealing after recent events. Her eyes scanned the landscape for any sign of Trip, but she saw nothing except the flutter of a few wayward birds.  
  
Trip; she wondered when exactly she'd stopped thinking of him as Commander Tucker, her colleague, and when she'd began thinking of him as Trip, her trusted confidant. And, she reminded herself, her lover. She paused on the word for a moment. 'Lover' was a human term, not one used on Vulcan, yet if she understood it's meaning, it was an apt description of her relationship with the commander. He was indeed a person with whom she'd shared sexual relations and he was indeed an affectionate friend. But, T'Pol reminded herself, the word also meant two persons in love. 'Love' was also not a Vulcan expression, but she knew that the strength of her affection for Trip equated to human 'love' and that realization still frightened her.  
  
Her mind returned to that night in her quarters. Because of the Trellium- D, she'd been able to access more freely her emotions, but simply by his touch, Trip had awakened in her an entire new spectrum of feelings, all of which were still tangled up within her. Before that night, T'Pol had never realized she possessed such a great capacity to feel for one person, especially an emotional being. Through their intimacy, Trip had stirred the feelings within her that, up until that point, she'd tried to classify as by-products of their neuro-pressure sessions. But now the feelings were fully awake and very, very real. Trip was a part of her and she could no longer deny that.  
  
T'Pol's head snapped up when she heard shouting.  
  
Then the sound of a single gunshot echoed through the forest and fear like she'd never experienced before gripped T'Pol. "Trip."  
  
  
  
Continued 


	3. Chapter Three

  
  
Chapter Three  
  
  
  
"Travis."  
  
The young helmsman looked up at Hoshi expectantly.  
  
"Would you stop that please?" asked the communications officer.  
  
"What?"  
  
"That," replied Hoshi with a nod of her head.  
  
Travis looked at his hand. "Oh, sorry," he said sheepishly. He stopped drumming his fingers on his console. "This waiting is just getting to me."  
  
"I know."  
  
The ensign looked closely at his friend. "You look worn out, Hoshi. Why don't you get some rest?"  
  
Hoshi shook her head. "I'm fine," she replied quickly. Her eyes dropped back down to her console. "I'm fine," she repeated softly.  
  
"Might help to talk, you know," urged Travis gently.  
  
"Not much to say," replied Hoshi with a shrug. "I did everything they wanted me to do. I broke their code."  
  
"Hoshi," began Travis.  
  
The ensign shook her head. "Can we not talk about this now?" she asked.  
  
Travis nodded. He turned back to his console when an alarm sounded. "There's a ship approaching."  
  
"But I thought there were no other starships here."  
  
Travis hit a few buttons. "It's Vulcan," he said. "Better get Lieutenant Reed."  
  
  
  
Jon had no idea how long Wilhelm had been gone, but the captain swore he could still smell the alien's evil stench in the tent. He glanced over to see Leyna talking with one of the hospital's doctors. From what Jon could tell, it was clear that the two were more than just colleagues. They stood very close and there was a certain comfort in their interactions with each other. They reminded him of his two most senior officers.  
  
The captain sighed. He wondered briefly what the future held for each pair. With Wilhelm making changes to the timeline, Jon wondered what everyone's future held.  
  
The captain turned at sudden shouting from outside. He stood as the tent flaps opened to reveal two soldiers dragging someone between them. He recognized the blonde hair and the uniform immediately.  
  
Jon gasped. "Trip," he whispered. He immediately took a step forward, but was stopped when one of the soldiers pointed his rifle in his direction. "Let me see him!" the captain demanded, but the rifle did not waver.  
  
Trip was lifted and deposited roughly on an empty cot. The doctor looked straight at Jon then down at his new patient and the captain knew he'd noticed Trip's uniform. The doctor said something to Leyna who motioned for Jon to come over. Both soldiers remained at the ready at the foot of Trip's cot.  
  
"How serious is it?" asked Jon as he looked anxiously down at his friend. Trip was conscious, but he didn't seem too aware of his surroundings. Blood soaked the entire left shoulder and chest of his uniform.  
  
"Who is this man to you?" asked Leyna.  
  
"He's my friend," replied Jon curtly. "Neither of us is military. Now, damn it, please answer my question! How serious is it?"  
  
Leyna ignored Jon's plea and turned to speak to the two soldiers instead. The captain heard Wilhelm's name mentioned and he grimaced in fear. She was sending for the alien commander.  
  
One of the soldiers left, but another came in quickly, his rifle pointed at the captain. He motioned at Jon to step back.  
  
"No," Jon replied with a shake of his head.  
  
The German stepped forward and pushed Jon back. The captain stumbled and fell beside his cot, his equilibrium still slightly off. He tried to stand again, but found himself looking down the barrel of a rifle. He looked around the soldier to see the doctor kneeling at Trip's side.  
  
Leyna said something to the soldier standing at the foot of Trip's cot and the man immediately moved to hover over Trip's head. He put his hands down on the engineer's shoulders then pressed.  
  
"What are you doing?" asked Jon.  
  
"Removing the bullet," replied Leyna over her shoulder. She pulled some bandages off a nearby table then she knelt down by the cot while the doctor tore open Trip's uniform.  
  
Jon watched in horror as the doctor inserted a scalpel into Trip's wound. The commander struggled against the soldier holding him down, and his face contorted in pain.  
  
"Give him something!" shouted Jon.  
  
"We need all our supplies for our men, Mr. Archer."  
  
Jon tried to stand again. He needed to be at Trip's side, to help him, to comfort him, but the soldier pushed him back down.  
  
The doctor pulled some surgical pliers from his bag and began probing mercilessly and Trip cried out in agony, still struggling with all his might. His legs thrashed against the cot then they suddenly stilled. Beside himself with fear, Jon's gaze went to his friend's face. Trip's eyes were closed, but his chest still rose and fell with each ragged gasp of breath. The commander had thankfully passed out.  
  
After what seemed like hours, the doctor gave a triumphant grunt then pulled out the bloody pliers, a bullet clamped tightly in it's teeth. Jon expelled the breath he'd been holding and dropped his chin to his chest in relief. He looked back up to see the soldier prop Trip up enough for Leyna to apply bandages. Jon swallowed. There was blood everywhere - Trip's blood.  
  
Jon pushed himself from the ground to sit on his cot completely aware he still had a gun in his face. He looked up at the soldier who was guarding him. The boy wasn't more than seventeen at that, thought the captain sadly.  
  
Leyna stood. "He will live if infection does not set in," she said.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
The nurse turned to the captain. "We are not monsters, Mr. Archer, "she replied wiping her hands on the front of her dirty tunic. "But I fear Koen may have only postponed your friend's death. I sent for Commander Wilhelm. He will not be pleased to learn about our latest arrival."  
  
A sudden explosion rocked the tent and Jon swore he could feel the earth tremble beneath his feet. Outside, he could hear shouting and the thud of feet pounding as people ran by.  
  
"Stalin," said Leyna. "Holy God, it begins."  
  
  
  
Malcolm entered the bridge in a rush. "Report!" he ordered.  
  
"A Vulcan vessel, sir," replied Travis. "They've powered weapons, but so far that's it. I think they're checking us out."  
  
"They're hailing us, sir," said Hoshi.  
  
Malcolm moved to the captain's chair then nodded. "Put them through, Ensign," he directed. When a Vulcan male appeared on screen before him, the lieutenant couldn't suppress his shock.  
  
"I am Captain Soval of the Vulcan science vessel, V'Lar," greeted the white- haired man. "State your business here."  
  
"Ambassador," gasped Malcolm.  
  
Soval's head tipped slightly. "I repeat, what is your business here?"  
  
Malcolm shook his head then straightened his posture. "I am Lieu---I am Malcolm Reed of Enterprise---Captain. We are simply here to---to observe this planet."  
  
Soval's eyebrow lifted in suspicion. "Your vessel has taken heavy damage. May I inquire as to what happened?"  
  
"The last planet we observed didn't---appreciate our presence."  
  
"Then you are a science vessel as well?"  
  
Malcolm put his hands behind his back and nodded. "Yes."  
  
"We are detecting weaponry on your ship that does not support that claim, Mr. Reed," replied Soval.  
  
"You claim to be a science vessel as well, Captain," said Daniels as he stepped forward. "Your arsenal of weapons does not support your claim either."  
  
"And who are you?"  
  
Daniels looked quickly at Malcolm then back to the Vulcan. "I am a science officer on Enterprise," he lied. "Believe me, Captain Soval, we do not pose any threat to this planet or to you. We are just here as observers."  
  
Soval looked away briefly then his eyes found Malcolm's. "I believe you are lying, Mr. Reed. You are humans. Is that correct?"  
  
Malcolm swallowed. "That is correct."  
  
"Humans are not capable of space travel," said Soval. "Yet here you are. Explain."  
  
The lieutenant cleared his throat. "A species called the Skagarans abducted several of us many years ago. We were taken to their world and made to work as slaves. As the years passed, we were able to overthrow their control over us. We used their technology to build Enterprise and have been searching for our people ever since. You can only imagine the joy we felt when we discovered Earth."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"Yes, well, now that we're here, we are trying to decide how best to make our presence known. For now, we have chosen to observe them from a distance."  
  
Soval's eyes squinted slightly. "That is a fascinating story, Mr. Reed." He sat back in his chair. "Vulcans have been observing Earth for years, expecting the humans to attain space travel. Surprisingly, they have not been able to do so."  
  
"Indeed," replied Malcolm with a hint of sarcasm.  
  
Soval sat forward. "We will be monitoring you, Mr. Reed. If you initiate any hostility toward this planet, we will not hesitate to act in kind toward your vessel. Am I understood?"  
  
Malcolm nodded. "Perfectly, Captain," he replied.  
  
The Vulcan's face disappeared and Malcolm's shoulders sagged in relief.  
  
  
  
Trip inhaled, taking in the fresh sea air that blew across his face and through his hair. He was water skiing, something he hadn't done in years. He looked at the water skimmer ahead of him and smiled. The captain was driving with Malcolm as co-pilot. T'Pol was turned around watching him, the sunlight catching the highlights in her brown hair.  
  
Then he was falling. Trip hit the water hard and went under. He realized that he wasn't wearing a life vest. The engineer struggled toward the surface, but a jolt of pain like he'd never known before stung his left shoulder. The pain grew in intensity and Trip felt nauseous. He looked toward the surface to see the watery image of the boat and three faces looking down at him. T'Pol reached for him and Trip strained to reach her hand, but no matter how he struggled, he just couldn't make it.  
  
The engineer awoke, his entire body trembling.  
  
"Welcome back."  
  
Trip took a deep breath against the pain and turned his head. "Cap'n?"  
  
Archer smiled. "Hey, Trip."  
  
"You really are alive?"  
  
"So it seems," Archer replied.  
  
"I thought you were dead, Cap'n," said Trip. "I thought I'd never see you again."  
  
The captain held Trip's eyes for a long moment then he smiled. "I'm happy to see you, too," he said softly. He drew in a steadying breath. "Although I think we could've planned our reunion in a better location, don't you?"  
  
Trip looked around. The hospital tent – he'd been shot. He squeezed his eyes shut and immediately saw the five soldiers in the forest. They'd managed to surround him. Then when he didn't respond to their questions, one of the men had shot him. Trip trembled again.  
  
"Hey, you okay?"  
  
"Yeah. Hurts like hell though."  
  
"They won't give you any pain killers," explained Archer. "They say they need them for their own people."  
  
A rumbling vibrated through the tent and Trip tried to sit up, only to fall back with an agonized yelp.  
  
Archer went to stand from his cot, but a soldier shouted at him and raised his weapon. The captain put up his hands then sat back down slowly.  
  
"What's going on?" asked Trip through clenched teeth.  
  
"Stalin is trying to take Berlin," replied Archer.  
  
"Your captain is right, boy."  
  
Trip angled his head so he could see the entrance to the tent. In it stood the tall, bulky frame of an alien being dressed in a Nazi officer's uniform. The man looked at Archer then walked over to Trip's cot. He hovered over the commander, his red eyes blazing with controlled anger.  
  
"Leave him alone, Wilhelm!" shouted Archer.  
  
"Stalin is trying to take Berlin," said Wilhelm. He fingered the bandages covering Trip's shoulder. "But only if I decide to let him." He smiled oddly and tilted his head. "Hello, Commander."  
  
Trip swallowed. Wilhelm continued to look at him closely, and Trip felt like the alien knew some secret that he didn't.  
  
The tent shook again with the force of another shell's impact. Trip could hear debris hitting the tent and knew the assault was drawing closer. People were shouting outside and wounded soldiers began rising from their cots, ready to join the battle. Wilhelm held perfectly still. Then his smile faded, he turned and walked out of the tent without a word.  
  
Trip heard a high pitched whistle then everything erupted around him. For several long moments, all he heard was screaming and a thunderous roaring in his ears. He felt more than saw the tent collapse, the heat from fire warming his sweat-chilled body. Then someone was over him, sheltering him from harm and he knew instantly it was the captain. Trip reached up with his good arm and covered Archer's head, then darkness fell over them.  
  
  
  
T'Pol could hear very clearly the thunder of detonations moving ever closer. She ducked into the same row of foliage behind which she and the commander had hid earlier in the day. She had managed to force the pain in her ankle to the back of her mind, choosing to focus on finding Trip and the captain. The going had been slow, but she'd followed the soldiers back to the hospital, using their trail that was, to T'Pol's horror, spotted with blood.  
  
She watched through the branches as an open-air vehicle pulled up next to the tent. From it stepped a large male in a dark uniform. The sub- commander knew instantly that it was the being of whom Daniels had spoken. She could see the glow of his red eyes even from where she was hidden. He looked around then entered the tent.  
  
Another blast sounded very close and T'Pol heard frantic shouting from the tent. She tipped her head and focused her hearing, picking up the sound of large machinery moving. Whoever was attacking the German people, they were coming closer with every passing minute.  
  
A light mist started as T'Pol crouched down and hid in the foliage. Troops ran by on the dirt road, their rifles drawn and at the ready. They were going into battle.  
  
The science officer knew her time was limited, but she had no idea how she was going to get the commander and the captain out of the tent. She tipped her head again as a high pitch whistle reached her ears. The shell hit just down the road, throwing up gravel and dirt over T'Pol's hiding place. She dropped to her stomach and covered her head as debris fell around her. Above the din, she could hear shouting.  
  
Another shell dropped, but T'Pol didn't know precisely where. Again, debris rained on her through the branches. She felt the power of the blast wash across her and she knew it had hit close. She risked a glance across the road and saw the tent as it collapsed, flames licking around it's edges.  
  
The world erupted in chaos. Soldiers crouched in the road, their weapons trained on the encroaching military vehicles. T'Pol craned her neck to see down the road. The three vehicles were huge and ominous and quite archaic. She knew though, that they were extremely destructive.  
  
A noise to her left drew T'Pol's attention and she turned her head. A soldier was staggering toward her hiding place, his jacket stained in deep crimson from a shrapnel wound to his chest. T'Pol held her breath. The boy dropped his rifle then pitched forward, landing only a meter away. Quickly, the sub-commander reached out and grabbed the boy's jacket then pulled him into the foliage beside her. Her hands worked, efficiently removing the jacket and the helmet.  
  
The boy's eyes opened. "I don't want to die," he said weakly. He gripped her arm, smearing blood on her sleeve. "Please, help me."  
  
T'Pol hesitated then she removed his hand gently. "I will bring help from the hospital," she replied. "Stay here. I will return."  
  
The boy nodded then his eyes closed again.  
  
She looked back at the tent. Through the dust kicked up on the road, T'Pol could see several people emerge from underneath its weight. She pulled on the gore-smeared coat and placed the helmet on her head then paused. Taking only a moment, she centered herself, focusing all her thoughts and energy on finding the two men across the road, forcing the pain to the deepest recesses of her mind. She picked up the boy's rifle, then she stood and pushed her way through the foliage.  
  
T'Pol moved quickly. She ignored the chaos around her, her eyes fixed on the collapsed tent just ahead. Relief swept over her when she saw two figures emerge, both in Starfleet uniforms. They crouched down close together.  
  
"Captain!"  
  
Archer turned his head and looked at her. "T'Pol?"  
  
T'Pol pulled off the helmet. She bent down then reached out and gently lifted Trip's chin from his chest. He was barely conscious, but he looked at her through half-closed eyes.  
  
"You need to get out of here, Mr. Archer. No one will stop you."  
  
T'Pol turned to see a nurse tending a downed soldier only a few meters away. The woman gave T'Pol a confused look then her eyes settled on the captain.  
  
"What about you, Leyna?" asked Archer.  
  
"These are my people," replied Leyna. "I will not leave them." Her gaze left the captain and it fell on a young man in a blood-stained white jacket. "I will not leave Koen." She looked back at Trip. "You are my enemy, but if he stays, he will die. I can no longer help him here. Now go!"  
  
T'Pol moved to Trip's side and gripped his waist tightly. She looked at Leyna. "There's a boy across the road. He's been severely injured," she said and she pointed to where she'd left the fallen soldier.  
  
"I will tend to him," replied Leyna with a nod. "Head into the forest, Mr. Archer, but be wary of patrols. Remember, you are the enemy."  
  
"Thank you," said Archer. He pulled Trip's arm down over his shoulder and put his other arm around the engineer's waist. "Let's get out of here, T'Pol."  
  
The three stood then bent down low and made their way quickly toward the tree line just behind the fallen tent. Debris fell over them as another shell impacted with the ground and they stumbled. Trip fell to his knees, and Archer and T'Pol quickly hauled him up.  
  
"Come on, Trip," urged the captain.  
  
T'Pol risked a glance behind her. The armored vehicles were meeting with little resistance as they barreled their way down the road. T'Pol wondered what would happen when they reached their destination. She knew there would be numerous casualties – both civilian and military. She thought it odd they seemed so ill-prepared for the onslaught then she wondered how much damage to the timeline the alien had already done. Perhaps he'd altered the outcome of this battle.  
  
T'Pol started to turn back then paused. Standing tall amongst the carnage surrounding him was the alien being. His red eyes met hers and he smiled. A chill ran down T'Pol's spine and she quickly looked away. When she forced her gaze back, the being was gone.  
  
  
  
Continued 


	4. Chapter Four

  
  
Chapter Four  
  
  
  
"You're in charge, Ensign," said Malcolm. "We'll return with the captain, Trip, and T'Pol as soon as we can."  
  
Travis nodded. "Aye, sir. Be careful, sir."  
  
Malcolm forced a small smile, nodded, then entered the 'lift with Daniels. "May I ask you something, Crewman?" he asked as he pushed the button to close the door.  
  
"Of course," replied Daniels.  
  
"Why is it you always seem to get the captain to do your dirty work?"  
  
"Is that what you think I do, sir?"  
  
Malcolm glanced down at the pulse rifle he held. "You obviously have the knowledge and access to the technology to stop this being, yet you sent Captain Archer back two centuries to do it for you. Why?"  
  
"Believe it or not, Lieutenant, my job as a temporal agent is only to observe the timelines, make certain nothing happens that changes history as it has been recorded. We have strict rules of non-interference."  
  
"By helping us with this weapon, you've certainly done more than just observe."  
  
Daniels nodded. "We've had to---bend a few rules since other factions have discovered time travel."  
  
The 'lift door opened and Malcolm couldn't help but gasp. Even though he expected it, the scene before him still surprised him. The two men stepped out into a shadowed forest. In the distance, Malcolm could hear weapons fire and explosions. He hoped his three senior officers were nowhere near that raging battle.  
  
"This way," said Daniels with a wave of his hand.  
  
"But why the captain?" asked Malcolm.  
  
"What? Oh," replied the crewman. "In order to protect history, we've had to make our presence known to only a select few. Captain Archer is one of those few. Unfortunately, due to past events, many in your crew are now considered part of those few as well." He ducked under a low-hanging branch.  
  
"You know how this turns out, don't you?" asked Malcolm as he side-stepped the branch.  
  
Daniels hesitated. "Not exactly."  
  
"What do you mean, not exactly?"  
  
The crewman sighed. "There are multiple timelines, sir. Since two timelines are currently overlapping, I unfortunately can't answer your question."  
  
"Do we succeed in any of the timelines?"  
  
"There's no way to know for sure."  
  
The lieutenant cursed under his breath.  
  
"They should be just ahead."  
  
Malcolm ducked under another branch then continued slightly ahead of Daniels. He heard voices and slowed, putting up a warning hand.  
  
Daniels brushed passed him. "It's okay, Lieutenant. It's them."  
  
Seconds later, Malcolm spotted Archer and T'Pol dragging Trip between them. He noted the captain's burns and the Vulcan's limp, but his stomach clenched when he saw the blood stained uniform of his closest friend. He jogged toward the three officers.  
  
Archer looked up, startled. "Malcolm?"  
  
"What happened to him, sir?"  
  
"Commander Tucker's been shot," replied T'Pol. "He needs to get back to Dr. Phlox immediately. Where is Crewman Daniels? Is he with you?"  
  
Malcolm nodded then turned. "Daniels----," he began then he stopped.  
  
The crewman was gone.  
  
"Oh, bloody hell," the lieutenant cursed again.  
  
"He was with you?" asked Archer, his voice rising in anger. "Where the hell did he go? Trip needs a doctor!"  
  
"He was here, sir," replied Malcolm dumbfounded.  
  
"The bastard left us," spat the captain.  
  
"So it would seem," said T'Pol evenly. She adjusted her grip on the engineer then flinched.  
  
"Here, Sub-commander," offered Malcolm. "Let me take him."  
  
T'Pol shook her head and tightened her arm around Trip's waist. "We need to find shelter, Captain. This mist will be turning to rain soon," she said.  
  
Archer exhaled. "Let's move him over there, where the trees are closer together. The branches should keep most of the water away."  
  
Trip moaned then he lifted his head slightly only to let it drop, his chin settling on his chest.  
  
"Hang on, Trip," urged Archer gently.  
  
"Trying, Cap'n," the engineer breathed.  
  
Malcolm followed the three officers under the canopy of branches then helped them lower Trip to the ground. T'Pol shrugged off the coat she was wearing and placed it under the commander's head.  
  
"Malcolm?" asked Trip. He squinted his eyes. "Where'd you come from?"  
  
The lieutenant smiled. "Figured you'd be getting yourself into trouble again, Commander."  
  
Trip snorted softly then grimaced in pain.  
  
Malcolm knelt at his friend's side. "Hey, hey," he soothed. "Take it easy, Trip."  
  
The engineer squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, taking in a shaky breath through clenched teeth.  
  
Archer pulled back Trip's uniform to reveal a blood-soaked bandage.  
  
"He appears to be bleeding again," said T'Pol. She placed her hand on Trip's forehead. "His body temperature is slightly elevated as well. We should not move him again."  
  
"Agreed," replied the captain. He stood, placed his hands on his hips then looked around. "Damn it, Daniels," he muttered.  
  
Malcolm stood up. "I have the weapon, sir. But where the hell do we find this----this being?"  
  
"T'Pol said she saw Wilhelm near the tent. We have to go back." Archer looked down at Trip, the worry clear on his damaged face. "T'Pol, you stay here with Trip. Malcolm and I will go back to the hospital. Maybe Leyna will have an idea where we can find Wilhelm."  
  
"Understood," replied the sub-commander.  
  
"Cap'n," said Trip. "You're going to need more help. Just-----just give me a minute to rest." He struggled to sit up, but T'Pol's firm hand on his good shoulder stayed him.  
  
Archer knelt at his friend's side again. "Sorry, Trip," he said gently. "But you'd only slow us down." He squeezed Trip's forearm. "You stay here with T'Pol. The lieutenant and I will be back before you know it."  
  
"Sir," pleaded the engineer.  
  
"That's an order, Commander," said Archer with gentle firmness. "Understood?"  
  
Trip held Archer's eyes then finally nodded reluctantly. "Aye, sir," he relented.  
  
Archer smiled and patted Trip's arm. "Good man." He looked across the commander to T'Pol. "You should be safe in here. I doubt at this point there will be any patrols, but if there are, these branches should keep you out of sight."  
  
T'Pol nodded. "The sounds of battle have grown distant, sir. But you and Lieutenant Reed should still approach with caution," she advised. "Those left in its wake will no doubt----shoot first and ask questions later."  
  
"We'll be careful."  
  
Malcolm watched as T'Pol again placed her hand on Trip's forehead. The gesture seemed one of comfort and Malcolm nodded ever so slightly. His friend would be in good hands.  
  
Archer squeezed Trip's forearm again then stood. "Let's go, Lieutenant."  
  
Malcolm met the commander's worried eyes, smiled reassuringly then turned and followed his captain out into the forest.  
  
  
  
Hoshi Sato stared at the text as it scrolled across her data padd. Phlox had suggested she write down her thoughts and feelings in a journal as a way of dealing with what had happened to her on the Xindi weapon. She'd been reluctant at first, but now as the words came pouring out of her, she realized the good doctor had been right. She wondered briefly if it even mattered, though. Earth was a changed place. She didn't even know if her family was still alive or if she'd even been born.  
  
The ensign shook her head in silent confusion.  
  
"You okay?" asked Travis from his seat at the helm. "I told you to take your break somewhere quiet, you know."  
  
"There's nowhere more quiet than the bridge at the moment, Travis."  
  
Travis smiled. "True."  
  
"This whole time line thing is sure confusing," sighed Hoshi.  
  
Travis chuckled. "You can say that again. I've been trying to figure out how Enterprise can even be in orbit if Starfleet never existed. I mean there was never a warp five project. How can we be here?"  
  
Hoshi shrugged then looked back down at her padd.  
  
"What are you working on?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Hoshi looked up at the hurt tone of her friend's voice. Dr. Phlox had also told her to find someone in whom she could confide. He'd offered, but Hoshi knew how busy the Denobulan was with the recovering injured. She felt strangely distant from everyone else, everyone except the man sitting only a few meters from her. Travis had always been supportive.  
  
She expelled a long, steadying breath. "I'm writing a journal," she offered hesitantly.  
  
"A journal?"  
  
Hoshi nodded then paused.  
  
"It's okay, Hoshi," said Travis gently. "You don't have to tell me."  
  
"No, no. I want to, Travis. It's just that I'm not sure I can open the floodgates without losing it completely." She put down her padd when she realized her hand was shaking.  
  
"Just take it slow then. Whatever you're comfortable with. I'll be here whenever you need me, I promise."  
  
Hoshi could feel the tears well up. "They broke me, Travis," she said, her voice cracking.  
  
Travis stood and moved to kneel beside her chair. "I don't believe that for a minute," he said.  
  
"They did. They wanted me to break the code to the weapon and I did it." She brushed angrily at the tears that tumbled from her eyes.  
  
"Just like that? They asked you and you just said sure?"  
  
"Well, no."  
  
Travis put a warm hand on Hoshi's shoulder. "I know what they did to you, Hoshi. Lieutenant Reed told me."  
  
"They hurt me, Travis," the ensign sobbed. "I tried to fight it, I even tried to kill myself, but they hurt me again."  
  
"You tried to kill yourself?"  
  
Hoshi nodded. "I managed to put a third layer of encryption over the code, then I tried to get away. I knew they'd break me. I just knew it."  
  
"Wait just a minute," said Travis. "They injected you with some sort of parasites, but you still managed to add another layer of encryption over the coding, then you tried to kill yourself so they couldn't use you, then they injected you with even more parasites. Is that right?"  
  
Hoshi nodded again, the tears falling freely.  
  
"They didn't break you, Hoshi. They tortured you and you still managed to do everything you could to stop them."  
  
"But I gave them the codes! They almost destroyed Earth because of me, Travis."  
  
"You saved Earth," insisted Travis. "If it hadn't been for you, this mission would have failed." He grabbed Hoshi's shoulders and turned her to face him. "You saved Earth."  
  
Hoshi shook her head. He was trying to call her a hero and she wasn't. She'd failed and failed miserably.  
  
"You saved Earth," the helmsman repeated softly.  
  
Hoshi held her friend's eyes. He was so sincere. He really did believe she'd saved their world.  
  
Slowly, she let her head drop to his shoulder. His arms encircled her and held her tight as she finally allowed herself to cry.  
  
  
  
Continued 


	5. Chapter Five

  
  
Chapter Five  
  
  
  
Trip blinked until the branches over his head came into focus. He could hear the rain falling and he found the sound oddly soothing.  
  
"You're awake."  
  
The engineer turned his head slightly to look at his companion. "How long was I out?" he asked.  
  
"Only a few minutes," replied T'Pol. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"You're fine?"  
  
Trip nodded then immediately regretted the tiny movement as a wave of pain hit him so hard, bile rose in his throat. He shut his eyes until his stomach settled.  
  
"Why do you feel it necessary to do that?" asked T'Pol. She put a gentle hand on Trip's forehead.  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"State that you're fine when it is obvious you are not."  
  
Trip gritted his teeth. "Well, why do you bother asking questions if you already know the answers?"  
  
There was no response, although the warm hand remained on his forehead.  
  
The engineer opened his eyes. "I'm sorry, T'Pol. I didn't mean to snap at you."  
  
"There is no need to apologize, Commander. I am worried as well."  
  
"How's the ankle?"  
  
T'Pol tipped her head to one side and looked at him with a hint of amusement in her dark eyes.  
  
Trip couldn't help but smile. "Why ask the question when I already know the answer, right?" He closed his eyes against another jolt of pain.  
  
"Breathe deeply, Commander," urged T'Pol. "It will help."  
  
The engineer nodded and concentrated on his breathing. He felt T'Pol's hand slide back from his forehead into his hair. She repeated the soft caresses and soon the pain became more tolerable.  
  
"Your temperature is elevated," said the sub-commander with concern. "Your body is fighting infection."  
  
"I'll be okay," reassured Trip. He paused for a moment. "You know that you do the same thing, don't you?" he asked finally.  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"Say that you're fine when you're obviously not."  
  
When silence was his only reply, Trip opened his eyes and looked up at his companion. She'd moved closer to him, one hand still gently stroking his forehead while the other rested lightly over his hand. As much as he wanted to help her, wanted her to trust him, he knew he couldn't push her. He simply remained quiet, watching as a swirl of emotions crossed her face.  
  
"Commander-----Trip," T'Pol began then she stopped, clearly at odds with herself.  
  
Trip turned the hand lying under hers and squeezed her fingers gently. "I meant what I said, T'Pol. I'll listen when you're ready."  
  
T'Pol nodded. "I appreciate that," she replied quietly.  
  
Trip met her eyes for a long moment then he looked away. "Mind if I ask you something?"  
  
"Not at all."  
  
"Why me? If all you wanted to do was explore human sexuality, why'd you choose me? You see, you were right about me, T'Pol. I can't have a physical relationship without getting emotionally involved." He paused as a thought suddenly occurred to him and he looked at her. "Is that what you thought? That it would just be sex for me, just something I could do to release some stress?" He turned his head away. "Well, I've got some news that might surprise you, T'Pol. It wasn't just sex for me."  
  
"Nor was it for me."  
  
"After all we've been through together, I can't---." Trip stopped abruptly. "What did you say?"  
  
"I said it wasn't just sex for me either, Commander."  
  
Trip looked back at her in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it when his muddled brain failed to form any coherent words.  
  
T'Pol folded her hands in her lap and looked down. "And I didn't choose you. In order to do that, there would have had to be others. There were not and there have never been."  
  
Trip swallowed, the ache in his shoulder all but forgotten. "I was your first?" he asked.  
  
The sub-commander nodded.  
  
"Oh hell, T'Pol. I didn't realize---I mean----did I hurt you?"  
  
"No, there was no discomfort. I found the entire experience highly pleasurable."  
  
Trip expelled a sigh of relief then he smiled slightly. "I found the entire experience highly pleasurable, too." He reached out and rested his right hand over both of hers. She looked up at him just as he'd hoped she would. "Listen, T'Pol, by now you know how I feel about you, but you're dealing with a lot right now, with your emotions and all." He squeezed her hands. "After you sort through everything, if you decide you don't want to pursue anything with me, I'll accept that. It'll hurt like hell, but I'll accept it. I just want you to know you can trust me. I'll be there for you no matter what, okay?"  
  
T'Pol nodded once and Trip thought he saw the glimmer of tears pooling in her dark eyes. He squeezed her hands again, wondering what could have happened to shake her control so deeply.  
  
"Well now. Isn't this a touching moment."  
  
Trip looked beyond T'Pol to the figure that stood in the shadows, his dark grey uniform dripping from the rain.  
  
  
  
Jon stood perfectly still, taking in the sight spread before him. Bodies lay strewn everywhere, their blood mixing with the falling rain to form crimson puddles in the deep tracks left by the Russian tanks. An eerie silence hung over the place and Jon shivered. Beside him, Reed cursed under his breath.  
  
Slowly, they moved across the road to what remained of the fallen field hospital. Jon choked on the smoke still rising from the ashes. His eyes fell on a hint of white and he knew instantly to whom that white fabric belonged. He stepped over two fallen soldiers then knelt. Koen's body was draped over Leyna's and Jon knew the young man had probably tried in vain to protect his lover from harm.  
  
"What do we do now, Captain?" asked Reed, his voice hushed.  
  
Jon stood. "I don't know, Malcolm," he replied.  
  
"Did this Wilhelm say anything about his plans, anything at all, sir?"  
  
"No. He just said he was here to set things straight. He knew I was here to stop him and he knew Trip, too," Jon replied then he shook his head. "Where the hell is Daniels?"  
  
"Why would he go through all the trouble of bringing us here just to abandon us?"  
  
Jon looked at his armory officer. "He wouldn't."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"I get the feeling we're missing a big piece to this puzzle, Malcolm. Things must be happening as they're supposed to otherwise Daniels would be here. I know him. He wouldn't give up like this. There's something we're not being told."  
  
"Captain, are you certain Wilhelm said nothing peculiar to either you or the commander?"  
  
Jon shook his head. "No. Like I said, he told me he was here to set things straight. He didn't say much at all to Trip. He just looked at him." The captain swallowed. His mind flashed back to the meeting between Wilhelm and the engineer.  
  
Reed hefted the altered pulse rifle over his shoulder. "It'll be growing dark soon, Captain. What do you want to do? Go into Berlin, see if Wilhelm went there?"  
  
Jon felt a strange fear rise up within him. "No," he said shaking his head. "I think we should get back to Trip and T'Pol."  
  
  
  
Enterprise's first officer got to her feet and turned to face Wilhelm, keeping herself between the alien and Trip.  
  
"Ah, T'Pol of Vulcan," greeted Wilhelm. "It is so nice to see your lovely face again."  
  
"We have never met."  
  
"Oh, but we have," replied the alien. He stepped forward slowly. "And you were even protecting your husband as you are now."  
  
T'Pol glanced down at Trip then back to Wilhelm.  
  
"Oh, that's right, you're not husband and wife in this time line." Wilhelm moved closer. "But I sense you will still fight to keep him safe. Am I right?"  
  
"Yes," replied T'Pol. Behind her, she could hear Trip moving. She turned her head enough to see he was struggling to get to his feet. Carefully, she grabbed his elbow and helped him up, her eyes never leaving Wilhelm.  
  
"What do you want?" asked the engineer breathlessly.  
  
"What do I want," repeated the alien. He put his hands behind his back. "I want many things, Commander. Do you want me to list them?"  
  
"Listen, you sonofabitch," began Trip.  
  
"Commander," cautioned T'Pol, grabbing Trip's wrist. "I believe what Mr. Tucker is asking is what do you want with us?"  
  
"I know exactly what the boy was asking," replied Wilhelm sharply, then he smiled. "I'm just not ready to tell you yet."  
  
"Maybe you'd like to tell us what you're doing here then----if you're ready, that is," retorted Trip.  
  
T'Pol could hear the commander's labored breathing. She risked a sidelong glance, noting quickly his pallor and the perspiration dotting his forehead.  
  
"Well, it seems, my good Commander, that the Guardians failed to complete the very simple task they were assigned," explained Wilhelm. "All they needed to do was complete the Expanse then this realm would've been safe for my species. But they failed and so I had no choice but to handle things in my own way."  
  
"Your species?" repeated Trip.  
  
"Yes," replied the alien. "I believe in this realm we're called the Makers, the Sphere-builders."  
  
T'Pol started slightly. "We were under the impression the Guardians built the spheres."  
  
"No, no, no," replied Wilhelm. "They were simply that---Guardians. They could enter this realm for short periods of time, we couldn't. It only made sense that they be assigned the task of guarding the spheres for us."  
  
"But you're here," said Trip.  
  
"I was genetically engineered to survive in this realm, but I can only do so for a limited amount of time. That's why I was put into stasis. If the Guardians had done what we asked of them, I would still be sleeping peacefully, awaiting the arrival of my people." Wilhelm sighed dramatically. "But instead I find myself here, in the middle of a war."  
  
"Is there some importance to your appearance here in 1945 Germany?" asked T'Pol.  
  
Wilhelm shook his head. "Actually a pretty random selection on my part, T'Pol," he replied. "I did find this Hitler character intriguing, though; an intelligent human if not slightly unstable."  
  
"Slightly unstable?" repeated Trip incredulously. "The man was insane."  
  
"Maybe," smiled Wilhelm. "And maybe not. I have actually met the man, Commander. You haven't. I've shared many an interesting conversation with Mr. Hitler. We got along quite well in fact."  
  
"I am not surprised," replied T'Pol.  
  
Wilhelm's smiled faded. "I'm growing tired of this inane banter," he said as he moved quickly forward. "I believe it's time you find out what I want with you."  
  
T'Pol stepped in front of Trip and widened her stance, bracing herself for the assault. Wilhelm reached out a big hand and grabbed T'Pol around the throat. He lifted her from the ground with ease and tossed her aside. She landed in a heap, her breath knocked soundly from her body. Rolling to her side, T'Pol could see Wilhelm towering over Trip. The engineer wore a look of defiance on his bruised face.  
  
"You are fragile, boy," Wilhelm hissed. "Yet you are consistently my bane."  
  
Trip threw a punch and the alien's head snapped back. The engineer landed another blow then he turned and moved toward T'Pol. She saw him reaching for her then a powerful hand gripped his injured shoulder and yanked him back.  
  
Trip's agonized cry rang in T'Pol's ears and she felt something awaken inside her. As she pushed herself to her feet, an unbridled anger burned through her and she did nothing to suppress it. Trip needed her and that was all she knew.  
  
With a guttural growl of rage, T'Pol lunged at Wilhelm.  
  
  
  
"Did you hear something, Captain?" asked Malcolm. He put out his arm, stopping Archer. The sound of rain falling was all that broke the silence and the armory officer shook his head. "I could've sworn I heard----."  
  
A scream echoed through the darkening forest.  
  
"Come on!" shouted Archer.  
  
As he ran, Malcolm tightened his grip on the weapon he held, knowing it was their only hope. He followed the captain through the woods at break-neck speed, dodging trees and low-hanging branches as he ran. The scream had been T'Pol's but it wasn't one of pain, it was one of raw anger. Malcolm gripped the rifle tighter.  
  
The two men slowed their pace as they approached the area where they'd left Trip and T'Pol. Malcolm signaled to Archer to move to his left while Malcolm moved right. He crept as quietly as he could.  
  
As he approached, the lieutenant could see T'Pol. She was crouched low, her hands out in front of her, her fingers bent into claws. She appeared to be stalking someone. Malcolm took another step and then saw the sub- commander's prey. He swallowed hard. Wilhelm had Trip by the neck, holding the commander between himself and T'Pol. The alien was smiling.  
  
Malcolm moved closer then knelt, bringing the rifle butt to his shoulder. He didn't have a clear shot with both T'Pol and Trip in his line of fire, but he hoped Archer would provide a distraction.  
  
"Well, I see the captain and the lieutenant have finally arrived," said Wilhelm. He pulled Trip closer to him. "I know about the weapon already, Mr. Reed, so the element of surprise is gone. Why don't you join us?"  
  
Malcolm's mind raced. The weapon had no stun setting so he knew if he fired, one or both of his senior officers would die. He also knew in the short time it took him to pull the trigger after the first shot, Wilhelm would be gone. Slowly, Malcolm stood and moved into view. From the corner of his eye, he saw the captain doing the same.  
  
"There's one thing you can say about time," said Wilhelm lightly. "There are always constants. In every time line, the scenarios have always been different, but it's always been the four of you who confront me. I find that fascinating, don't you?"  
  
Malcolm kept the rifle butted against his shoulder. Although T'Pol had stepped aside, Wilhelm still held Trip squarely in front of him. He risked a glance at the Vulcan. She was bruised and bloodied but what shocked Malcolm most was the look of rage twisting her face. He quickly moved his eyes back to Wilhelm. Briefly, he focused his eyes on his friend. Trip looked to be in pretty bad shape. Fresh blood soaked the shoulder of his uniform, but he still struggled against Wilhelm's firm grip on his neck.  
  
A sudden and strange sense of déjà vu hit Malcolm as he found himself looking at T'Pol. He moved his eyes quickly back to Wilhelm only to find the alien gone and Trip on the ground in a crumpled heap.  
  
In the same instant he looked up from the rifle's sight, he felt two powerful hands grip him under the arms. Before he could fight, Malcolm found himself tossed like a rag doll toward the trunk of a tree. Just before impact, he watched the rifle fly from his grip and he knew he'd failed his mission.  
  
  
  
Continued 


	6. Chapter Six

  
  
Chapter Six  
  
  
  
Jon blinked. He could've sworn Wilhelm was standing just a few meters away. He heard Reed grunt and turned to see the big alien lifting the lieutenant off the ground. As if in slow motion, Jon watched in horror as Wilhelm threw the armory officer into a tree. The sound of Reed's body impacting the massive trunk was audible.  
  
T'Pol moved quickly to Trip's side while Jon turned to face Wilhelm.  
  
The alien staggered slightly. "I don't like to shift that quickly," he explained. "Takes too much control and it gives me a headache."  
  
"The commander is dead, Captain."  
  
Jon looked at T'Pol then down at the still form of his best friend. His body trembled uncontrollably. Trip couldn't be dead, he thought. T'Pol had to have made a mistake. Trip couldn't die. He was one of those constants Wilhelm mentioned. But the look in his science officer's eyes told Jon otherwise. She moved to Reed, felt for a pulse then nodded at the captain. Reed still lived. His eyes went back to Trip.  
  
"That's strange," said Wilhelm. "He was always the last one standing in the other time lines. Yet in this one, he's the first to go. I guess time can still surprise me, eh Captain?"  
  
Jon's body still trembled uncontrollably but no longer from shock. Anger boiled up inside him and he clinched his fists at his sides. He'd always thought Trip would out live him, that he'd never have to face the death of the man he considered family. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to do that.  
  
As the rain fell harder around him, Jon turned his gaze back on the alien time traveler. He focused his thoughts, knowing the time for grieving his friend would come later and it would only come if he could stop this being. He'd seen the weapon leave Reed's hands and land in the bushes. If he could keep Wilhelm distracted, maybe T'Pol could find it.  
  
"You bastard," Jon spat.  
  
"I know the boy was your friend, Captain, but you'll be seeing him again very soon. Doesn't your species believe in a place called heaven?"  
  
Jon lunged at Wilhelm and swung his fist, connecting with the alien's jaw. Wilhelm's head snapped, but the blow did nothing more. He looked back at the captain then backhanded him so hard that Jon fell to the ground. He spit blood out on the ground then pushed himself to his feet. A cry of fury reached his ears and he spun around just as T'Pol leaped on Wilhelm's back. Her fingers dug into the alien's gray skin leaving rents in his cheeks that oozed dark blood.  
  
While T'Pol continued her assault, Jon hit Wilhelm again. He kicked out with all his strength into the alien's groin, but there was no reaction. Then Wilhelm reached back over his shoulders and grabbed T'Pol's arms. He threw his body forward and the Vulcan sub-commander lost her grip. She sailed over Wilhelm's back, landing hard against the base of a tree.  
  
Blazing red eyes met Jon's. In one swift movement, Wilhelm reached out and grabbed the captain by the throat, lifting him from the ground. "I'm growing weary of this entertainment, Captain," he hissed.  
  
Jon could feel his airway constricting from the pressure and he felt light- headed. He stared fixedly at Wilhelm, knowing that the alien had won. Everything the crew of Enterprise had done to insure Earth's safety was all for naught. There would be an Expanse after all.  
  
Wilhelm's eyes suddenly widened and his grip eased. Jon managed to struggle just enough to free himself from the alien's clutches. He dropped to the ground and rolled to his knees. He looked up to see a look of shock on Wilhelm's face. The alien slowly turned to look behind him then he fell to his knees.  
  
Beyond the alien, Jon could see Trip. The commander was standing, the pulse rifle aimed directly at Wilhelm.  
  
"It was you after all," whispered Wilhelm.  
  
Trip fired again and the alien pitched forward.  
  
  
  
Travis stared at the Vulcan science vessel still looming large on the bridge view screen. He wondered when Captain Soval would be contacting them again and just how he was going to explain Lieutenant Reed's absence.  
  
"Archer to the bridge."  
  
The ensign looked at Hoshi as he depressed the comm. button. "Captain?" he asked. "Is it really you, sir?"  
  
"It's really me, Travis," Archer responded with clear amusement. "Everyone made it, Travis, though we're a bit worse for wear. I'll be in sickbay with the others if you need me."  
  
"Aye, sir," replied Travis. "And sir? Welcome home."  
  
"Good to be back, Ensign. It's good to be back."  
  
"They did it!" cried Hoshi. "They really did it!"  
  
Travis shook his head and laughed, slapping both hands on the console before him.  
  
"Wait a minute," said Hoshi suddenly. "We're being hailed by the Vulcan ship."  
  
Travis furrowed his brow in confusion. "I guess you'd better put them through."  
  
The stoic face of Soval loomed large before him and Travis faltered. This man wore the robes of a Vulcan ambassador, not the uniform of a captain.  
  
"Where are T'Pol and Archer?"  
  
"Um, well, they're not here at the moment, Ambassador."  
  
One white Vulcan eyebrow lifted. "I can see that, Ensign," Soval replied briskly. "Is she---are they all right?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Soval expelled a short breath and his shoulders relaxed slightly. "Congratulations, Ensign. I believe you're returning to a heroes' welcome as you should be."  
  
"Thank you, Ambassador. It's good to be home, sir."  
  
"Tell T'Pol to contact me immediately."  
  
"Yes, sir. I will."  
  
Soval's face disappeared and Travis sat back in his chair.  
  
"Don't get too comfortable, Travis," said Hoshi. "We're being hailed again." Then she grinned. "It's Admiral Forrest."  
  
Travis smiled brightly. "Put him through!"  
  
  
  
Phlox couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. Before him, either reclining on a bio bed or sitting on one, were Enterprise's four most senior officers. The Denobulan couldn't remember experiencing such a moment of joy as when his sickbay doors slid open to reveal the four all battered and bruised, but very much alive. He stood for a moment just observing them, allowing himself to revel in their presence. Then his eyes moved to Crewman Daniels who stood quietly to the side and his mood sobered.  
  
The doctor stepped to Trip's bedside and reviewed the monitors above his head.  
  
"How is he, Doctor?" asked T'Pol from the next bed.  
  
"He's lucky to be alive," replied Phlox. He looked down at his patient. "I'm sorry, Commander, but you need to rest."  
  
"Don't knock me out, Doc," pleaded Trip. "Please."  
  
Phlox sighed. "You've lost a lot of blood, you're temperature is still dangerously high----."  
  
"Okay, okay," relented the engineer. He turned his head and Phlox pressed a hypo-spray to his neck.  
  
"We won't start the party without you, Trip," said Archer. He slid from his bed and moved next to Phlox at the engineer's side. "You've got my word on that."  
  
Trip mumbled something Phlox couldn't understand then his eyes drooped and they slowly slid shut.  
  
"I really thought I lost him down there," said Archer quietly.  
  
"I apologize for our ruse, Captain."  
  
Archer looked across the sleeping commander to T'Pol. "There's no need to apologize."  
  
"I know how you feel about Commander Tucker. It was quite unpleasant leading you to believe he was dead."  
  
"His idea worked, though, T'Pol. Wilhelm bought it hook, line, and sinker."  
  
Phlox chortled at T'Pol's obvious confusion. "Another colorful human expression, T'Pol," he explained.  
  
"The entire universe, past, present, and future, is indebted to you and your crew, Captain," said Daniels. He stepped forward to stand next to the lieutenant's bed.  
  
"You knew it was Trip all along, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes, Lieutenant."  
  
"What I don't understand is if Trip succeeded in killing Wilhelm in the other time lines, why did Wilhelm keep turning up?" asked Archer.  
  
"Commander Tucker didn't succeed in the other time lines, sir."  
  
"So Wilhelm just kept shifting, eliminating the positive outcomes as he went?" said T'Pol.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"His species still exists in the other realm, Crewman. What is to keep them from building the Expanse again?"  
  
"Nothing, Sub-commander," replied Daniels. "But with the destruction of the spheres and the death of Wilhelm, they've lost their ties to this realm. They'll have to start over. The universe will see great changes during the years that will pass so it won't fall on humanity's shoulders to stop them alone next time."  
  
"And that's supposed to make us feel better?" snorted Reed derisively.  
  
"Yes, sir. It is."  
  
Phlox cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy tension in the room. "I'd like to start you on the dermal-regeneration process as soon as possible, Captain. With a little luck, you won't be able to tell you were ever burned."  
  
"I should really talk to Admiral Forrest first, Doc."  
  
"All right, but please make it quick. The longer we postpone the process, the more likely it becomes that there will be residual scarring."  
  
"Understood," replied Archer. He patted Trip's arm gently. "Take care of him, Doc." He looked up at T'Pol and Reed. "And you two get some rest."  
  
Both officers nodded in response.  
  
"And Crewman, no offense, but I could go a long time without seeing your face again."  
  
Daniels smiled good-naturedly. "Understood, Captain," he replied.  
  
"I'll be right back, Doc," said Archer then he turned and left sickbay.  
  
Phlox looked back up at the monitors over Trip's head, clucking absently.  
  
"You're certain the commander will be okay?" asked Reed.  
  
"Yes, Lieutenant. I'm quite certain."  
  
"Good. If you don't mind, Doctor, I'd like to go to my quarters and get cleaned up. Am I free to go?"  
  
"Yes, but if you have any bouts of dizziness or nausea, I want you to return immediately, is that understood?"  
  
"Understood, Doctor. I'll be back later to check on Trip."  
  
Phlox nodded at the lieutenant as he walked by the bio bed then he turned to T'Pol. "You're free to return to your quarters as well, T'Pol, if you promise to stay off that ankle for at least a few hours. I've fused the break, but the ligaments were stretched and will be quite tender for a while yet." He tipped his head and looked at her closely. "On second thought, maybe you should just stay here where I can monitor you, hmmmm?"  
  
"Thank you, Doctor."  
  
The Denobulan looked at Daniels. "Is there something I can do for you, Crewman?"  
  
"No. I guess I should be going as well."  
  
"Very well. You know the way out," replied Phlox. He glanced down at his sleeping patient then back up.  
  
Daniels was gone.  
  
"Does he leave that way all the time?"  
  
"Apparently so."  
  
Phlox tucked his chin and snorted softly then he eyed T'Pol. "Now, why don't you tell me how you're really doing, hmmmm? The situation you found yourself in was quite emotionally charged, was it not?"  
  
T'Pol nodded. "It was," she replied then she hesitated.  
  
"T'Pol?" coaxed the doctor.  
  
The sub-commander's eyes fell on Trip. "Wilhelm was hurting him," she said softly.  
  
"So you became angry?"  
  
"It was more than just anger, Doctor. I felt hatred and I did nothing to suppress it."  
  
"Is that so bad?" asked Phlox. "Even humans and Denobulans, for that matter, get angry when someone they care about is being threatened or harmed."  
  
"But I couldn't control it. It consumed me."  
  
"And you're afraid it might happen again?"  
  
T'Pol nodded.  
  
"This was an extreme case, T'Pol," said Phlox. "Tell me this, since you stopped using the Trellium, have you been angry with Commander Tucker at all?"  
  
"Yes. He can be----quite frustrating at times."  
  
"Yet you haven't harmed him."  
  
"No," replied the science officer in a contemplative tone.  
  
Phlox moved over to stand beside the Vulcan. "Give it time, T'Pol, be patient."  
  
"I am trying, Doctor, but it is difficult."  
  
  
  
The sickbay doors slid open and T'Pol looked over Phlox's shoulder to see Archer striding toward them. She quickly straightened her posture and found her composure.  
  
"Everything okay?"  
  
"Yes, Captain," replied Phlox. "Commander Tucker's temperature is finally dropping and T'Pol's ankle has fused quite nicely."  
  
"Good. Admiral Forrest informs me that there's a celebration planned for tomorrow evening. You think Trip'll be up and about by then?"  
  
"I don't see why not. I wouldn't recommend he over indulge, but I don't see why he can't join in the festivities."  
  
Archer smiled and T'Pol couldn't remember the last time she'd seen the captain so relaxed and jovial.  
  
"Soval would like you to contact him as soon as you're able, T'Pol."  
  
"I will do so immediately."  
  
"If you'll take a seat, Captain, I'll prepare the dermal-regenerator."  
  
T'Pol watched Phlox step across the room. Archer hiked himself up on the bed he'd only vacated minutes earlier. He looked down at Trip and T'Pol could see the affection very evident on his damaged face.  
  
She slid off her bed. "I should contact the ambassador," she said. She took a few steps then stopped, turning to face Archer. "I haven't had the chance to tell you how---pleased I am that you've returned, Captain. Your presence was greatly missed."  
  
Archer smiled warmly. "It's good to be home."  
  
"I would like to make a request, sir."  
  
Archer's brow furrowed.  
  
"Please refrain from anymore suicide missions. Grieving for you twice has been quite---taxing."  
  
The captain chuckled. "I'll do my best, T'Pol," he replied. "Good luck with Soval."  
  
T'Pol nodded. "I believe I will need it, sir." She glanced down at the sleeping commander one last time then left sickbay.  
  
  
  
Continued 


	7. Chapter Seven

  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
  
  
Hoshi felt herself laugh and it felt good. She watched in amusement as Travis attempted to show Corporal MacKenzie how to dance. The young MACO had sworn to the helmsman that she had two left feet and virtually no sense of rhythm, but Travis had only taken that as a challenge. He was currently grimacing as the corporal stepped on his foot for the third time.  
  
"Would you like to dance, Ensign?"  
  
Hoshi turned at the gentle tap on her shoulder to see Lieutenant Reed smiling somewhat shyly down at her. She took his proffered hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.  
  
She smiled. "Why, I didn't know you could dance, sir."  
  
"You must be joking. I come from a military family, remember?"  
  
Hoshi shook her head slightly. "What does that have to do with dancing, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Every Friday night on the naval base, there was always a dance. My mum made certain I attended every one of them and of course, my father would have never forgiven me if I'd made a mockery of the Reed family name. I took lessons every Saturday afternoon. I'm not really complaining, though. I was one of the few boys in the class."  
  
Hoshi laughed again. "Oh, I see. You were just trying to pick up pretty girls," she teased.  
  
"And it worked, too," smiled the lieutenant. "I see Travis has his work cut out for him."  
  
"I guess the corporal was right when she said she couldn't dance."  
  
Reed looked down at Hoshi. "You're certainly gifted on your feet, Ensign."  
  
"Years of ballet. And I'm your subordinate, Lieutenant. You can call me by my name."  
  
To Hoshi's dismay, the armory officer blushed and he looked quickly away. "I suppose I could," he replied. He spun her around then dipped her backwards.  
  
"Starfleet really out did themselves tonight, didn't they, sir?" asked the ensign when she found herself upright once more.  
  
Reed nodded. "A real heroes' welcome."  
  
"I'm not so sure I feel quite like a hero yet."  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Reed. He stopped dancing and lifted Hoshi's chin so that she was looking at him. "You are a hero, Hoshi. Don't ever doubt that."  
  
Hoshi smiled. "I said I didn't quite feel like one yet, Lieutenant. But I hope to eventually."  
  
Reed spun her again and she laughed.  
  
  
  
"I was wondering where you disappeared to."  
  
Trip smiled at his friend. "Hey, Cap'n," he greeted then he turned to look back out over the bay, the cool ocean breeze blowing gently across his face.  
  
"You're usually the life of the party, Trip. You feeling okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," replied the engineer. "Just haven't been around that many people in a long time. Kinda overwhelming."  
  
Archer leaned on the railing next to Trip. "You still leaving tomorrow to visit your folks?" he asked.  
  
Trip nodded. "Yep. Admiral Forrest still okay with you coming with me to visit the Memorial?"  
  
"Yeah. I have to be back by Friday, though, for my official debriefing."  
  
"You know you're more than welcome to visit my family with me, Cap'n," offered Trip. "My folks would love to see you again."  
  
Archer smiled. "Thanks, but I've got plans already."  
  
"Rebecca?"  
  
"Yep. We're going to drive up the coast and stay at a little bed and breakfast, walk Porthos on the beach, and just get reacquainted."  
  
"Reacquainted, huh? Is that what you're calling it now?" teasedTrip.  
  
Archer laughed and shook his head. Trip suddenly realized how long it had been since he'd heard his friend's laugh. He'd missed it.  
  
A companionable silence fell as the two men looked out at the bay shimmering in the moonlight.  
  
"I bet your mom's planning quite the homecoming," said Archer finally.  
  
"She was, but I asked her not to."  
  
"How come?"  
  
Trip shrugged. "I don't know actually. I mean, I'm happy to be home and all, but----," he stopped then shrugged again helplessly.  
  
Archer sighed. "I think I understand, Trip, and I feel the same way. I guess we all just need time to wind down, to deal with what happened out there." He turned to face Trip, one elbow braced against the railing. "Unfortunately, we're not going to have too much time to do that."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"The Andorians and Vulcans seem to be at odds again. Admiral Forrest wants Enterprise out there to keep an eye on things. There's talk of war."  
  
"Again?"  
  
Archer nodded. "Soval told me that the High Command is willing to reinstate T'Pol's commission, so she'll be along for the ride." He nudged Trip teasingly. "That should make you happy."  
  
"Yeah, but will it make her happy?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"She's been through a lot, too, Cap'n. She's a different person now just like all of us."  
  
"T'Pol's still an explorer and a scientist at heart, Trip. I can't imagine her giving that up to stay at the Vulcan compound."  
  
"I don't know, sir."  
  
"Did she say something?"  
  
Trip shook his head. "We've hardly spoken since I woke up in sickbay last night. She stopped by to see me this morning, but she seemed pretty distracted."  
  
Archer patted Trip's arm. "She'll come around," he said. "You two have gotten pretty close, haven't you?"  
  
"You tell me. One minute I think we're heading in one direction, and the next----hell, I don't know where we're heading, Cap'n. I've always had a hard time figuring out women, but T'Pol's Vulcan to boot, so I'm totally lost here."  
  
Archer chuckled. "You've got it bad, don't you?"  
  
Trip snorted softly and looked down. "I guess I do."  
  
"Do you love her?"  
  
"I could if I let myself," replied Trip. He kicked at the balcony wall with one booted foot. "If she'd let me."  
  
Archer turned backwards and leaned on both elbows. "You want some advice from an old friend?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Go ask her to dance."  
  
Trip looked up at his friend. "That's your advice? I have it on great authority that Vulcans don't dance."  
  
"Well, if you haven't noticed, T'Pol's not your typical Vulcan. She might enjoy dancing. Worth a shot, isn't it?"  
  
"I don't know, Cap'n."  
  
Archer slapped Trip on the back. "I'm going to tell you what my dad told me when I was kid, Trip. He said 'son, all she can do is say no'."  
  
  
  
T'Pol stood quietly in a corner of the Starfleet reception hall. She'd long ago tuned out Soval and the other members of the High Command as they discussed the Andorians. Instead she'd found herself quite illogically scanning the crowd for one particular face. She finally saw him coming in from one of the balconies, Captain Archer at his side. The captain pointed in the direction of the Vulcans then to T'Pol's surprise, he seemed to give Trip a gentle push.  
  
As the commander approached, T'Pol felt an odd mixture of apprehension and excitement.  
  
"Good evening, Ambassadors," greeted Trip with a nod of his head.  
  
"Commander Tucker," replied Soval. "Congratulations on the success of your mission."  
  
Trip smiled disarmingly. "Thank you, sir."  
  
"Is there something you needed, Commander?"  
  
Trip's eyes moved to T'Pol. "I was wondering if you'd care to dance," he said. He held out his hand to her.  
  
"Commander," admonished Soval. "Vulcans don't participate in such frivolous activities. Now if you will excuse us----."  
  
T'Pol slipped her hand into Trip's. "I accept your invitation, Commander," she said.  
  
Trip grinned haughtily. "If you'll excuse us, gentlemen, ladies," he said then he lead T'Pol toward the dance floor.  
  
As they found an empty space, the lights dimmed and the music slowed. Trip wrapped one arm around T'Pol's waist, splaying his fingers across her lower back then he took her hand with his other, interlocked their fingers then lifted their joined hands to shoulder level.  
  
"We must maintain a respectable distance, Commander," said T'Pol as she took a half step away from her dance partner.  
  
Trip smiled down at her. "Why'd you say yes?" he asked as they started moving slowly to the music. "And where did you learn to dance?"  
  
T'Pol kept her eyes carefully averted. "I was finding their conversation less than stimulating," she replied.  
  
Trip chuckled lightly. "You were bored," he said. "And you didn't answer my other question."  
  
T'Pol hesitated. "Since you were so insistent that I attend Movie Night, I felt it only logical to try to discern something from the films you selected."  
  
"You did a great job discerning, T'Pol."  
  
The sub-commander was about to thank her partner when she felt his foot under her own. "I apologize," she said uncomfortably.  
  
"Don't worry about it," replied Trip good-naturedly. "I'll probably step on yours a time or two before we're finished."  
  
They continued to dance in silence. T'Pol found the gentle movement oddly comforting as well as the close proximity of her dance partner. He smelled of soap and sea air, a pleasurable combination to T'Pol's sensitive nose.  
  
"So are you coming back to Enterprise or are you going to stay here?"  
  
T'Pol looked up at Trip. "I will be returning to Enterprise," she replied. "Captain Archer will be needing me."  
  
"Yeah, I guess he will at that."  
  
T'Pol felt the shoulder muscles beneath her hand tense. Her response had disturbed him.  
  
"Perhaps we should discontinue this dance, Commander."  
  
Trip released her and stepped back. "Maybe that's a good idea," he replied and he turned to go.  
  
"Commander," said T'Pol. She reached out to grab his wrist. "I believe you've misunderstood. My ankle is still quite sore."  
  
Trip's face reddened and he looked down.  
  
"There is a bench outside in the courtyard. Would you care to join me?"  
  
The engineer nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."  
  
  
  
Trip stood from the bench and began to pace. "You did what?" he asked in confusion.  
  
"I don't believe it's necessary to repeat myself."  
  
Trip stopped, put his hands on his hips and turned to T'Pol. He'd finally found out why her emotional control had slipped so badly. He looked at the woman sitting silently before him. She was contemplating her folded hands where they lay in her lap. He expelled a long, deep breath. As confused and angry as he was, he'd promised her he'd be there for her no matter what and he'd never broken his promises.  
  
The engineer sat back down. "Why, T'Pol?" he asked imploringly. "Why would you risk your life like that and on a mission that was so damned important?"  
  
"I didn't think taking the Trellium in small doses would harm me."  
  
"But it did. That's why you're having so much trouble controlling your emotions?"  
  
"Yes. Dr. Phlox believes the damage may be irreparable."  
  
Trip leaned forward placing his elbows on his thighs. "I wish you'd trusted me with this sooner. Maybe I could've convinced you to stop taking it, made you see that you're perfect the way you are. I could've at least helped you through the withdrawals, made things easier for you."  
  
"I was----ashamed, Commander. I still am."  
  
Trip reached out his hand and rested it on hers. "You made a mistake, T'Pol. You can't keep punishing yourself for it." He sat back and sighed. "What's done is done."  
  
T'Pol kept her eyes downcast. "I appreciate your words, Commander."  
  
Trip squeezed her hands. "What can I do to help you now?"  
  
"You are doing it," replied T'Pol. She turned to look at him. "You are allowing me to relax my control. You're allowing me to feel. I can not let my guard down with anyone else."  
  
"Have you told the captain yet?"  
  
"No, and I won't."  
  
"T'Pol," began Trip.  
  
"He will lose his faith in me as his first officer and his friend."  
  
"I think you're selling him short, T'Pol. I think he'll understand."  
  
"His trust is important to me, Commander. I can not lose it."  
  
Trip looked at her, feeling suddenly hurt. He looked quickly away and removed his hand from where it still rested over hers.  
  
"Commander----Trip," said T'Pol. "You are upset."  
  
Trip shook his head. "No, no I'm not," he replied.  
  
"You believe that since I told you about my addiction, losing your trust isn't important to me?"  
  
The engineer snorted softly and stared down at his hands. "Jealousy isn't exactly what I'd call a fun emotion."  
  
"I would have to agree."  
  
Trip looked at her.  
  
"I told you about the Trellium not because I didn't mind risking your trust in me, but because I knew I wasn't risking your trust in me."  
  
"Come again."  
  
Trip saw the familiar hint of amusement in T'Pol's dark eyes, but she remained silent, watching him. Then he smiled as he realized what she'd said. He felt his ears warm with embarrassment.  
  
He looked away and cleared his throat. "So did the Trellium manufacture emotions or just enhance them?"  
  
"Neither," replied T'Pol. "It merely allowed me to access the emotions I already had without losing complete control over all of them."  
  
"So what happened between us that night, it was real?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Trip exhaled in relief then grinned. "Then you do have feelings for me," he teased.  
  
T'Pol simply lifted one slender eyebrow, an expression Trip had seen numerous times before and one he had come to love.  
  
He reached out and patted her leg. "We should get back to the party. We don't want people talking about us." He helped her to her feet and they stood facing each other. Trip swallowed, feeling suddenly nervous.  
  
T'Pol took his hand in hers and folded down his last two fingers. She did the same with her hand then touched their extended fingers together.  
  
"You just kissed me," Trip said in surprise.  
  
"You've been doing some research," stated T'Pol.  
  
Trip smiled warmly. "A little," he replied. They began walking back to the reception hall.  
  
"I suppose since you were quite---helpful in my exploration of human sexuality, that I should help you in your exploration of Vulcan sexuality."  
  
Trip stopped walking as T'Pol continued forward.  
  
She stopped and turned back to look at him. "Commander?"  
  
"Are we talking a few books on the subject?"  
  
The amusement appeared again in T'Pol's eyes. "I don't recall there being books involved in my exploration, Commander, so I don't see the need for them in yours," she replied then she turned and continued walking.  
  
Trip remained in place, completely dumbfounded.  
  
  
  
Dr. Phlox pressed the record button on the padd he held. "Dear Dr. Lucas," he began. "I am currently standing in the very spot it all began; in the surgical bay at Starfleet Medical. This is where I was first introduced three years ago to the Klingon, Klaang. Has it been three years already?" He paused and shook his head. "Now where was I? Oh yes, this is also where I was first introduced to Captain Jonathan Archer."  
  
He moved from the doorway to stand beside the bio-bed. "This is actually the third letter I've recorded for you in recent days, but the only one of the three you will receive. The first was a list of bequeathals; the second was merely a catharsis of sorts. Now as you no doubt have heard, the first letter is thankfully not necessary. The second? The circumstances of which I spoke in that letter have since changed, but the emotions behind the letter are still quite valid. I am so proud of this crew, Doctor. They succeeded in their mission and I am overwhelmed with pride for each one of them, both for the ones who survived and for the ones who did not."  
  
"There is also another purpose for this letter; to explain to you why I'm not telling you this in person. I had hoped to go home to Denobula to see you and to spend time amongst my own people, but I suddenly realized something. These are my people as well Dr. Lucas, and they will soon be shipping out again. I believe they will need me once more. Perhaps not to mend their physical wounds this time, but to mend their emotional ones. And I feel that they are the only ones who can help me to heal as well."  
  
"I must sign off for now. There is a celebration going on and I want to be there with my friends. There is an interesting development between two of my dearest friends that I want to observe. I believe there are significant changes occurring in their dynamic and I find it highly intriguing. Perhaps I will explain further in my next letter if all proceeds as I suspect it will."  
  
"Take care, Dr. Lucas. With warmest regards, your colleague, Dr. Phlox."  
  
The Denobulan pressed the button to end his recording then he stood quietly. He smiled as he tucked the padd into the pocket of his tunic. For the first time in many months, Phlox felt great optimism for his future and for the future of his friends. He patted his pocket once then left to join those very friends in their celebration.  
  
  
  
THE END 


End file.
